Trapped: A SciFi Convict Romance (The Condemned Book 1) Page 17

  She knew he was holding back from fighting in an effort to protect her.

  “Put your hands behind your back.” Pogue’s voice was brusque.

  “I will, as a gesture of good faith.” Caine’s muscles bunched as he did as requested. “I expect you to behave accordingly with Bella.”

  Pogue said nothing. Uncertainty skittered through her. Were they doing the right thing by trying to talk some sense into Winthrop, Pogue, and the others? It hadn’t worked so far. But finding Ava was more likely with their help and, equally significant, there was no getting Caine off this hellhole if they didn’t have the support of at least Winthrop.

  “You see, Dr. Winthrop?” She purposely directed her attention to him. “Caine is cooperating. He’s on our side.”

  Winthrop nodded, but he didn’t speak. One of the soldiers stepped forward and snapped a pair of Council restraints on Caine’s wrists. As usual, the restraints expanded, encasing Caine’s arms from wrist to forearm.

  “Feel familiar, convict?” mocked Pogue.

  “Don’t talk to him like that.” Bella could barely breathe over the dread coursing through her. Appeasement wasn’t calming Pogue. In fact, it seemed to be having the opposite effect. “He’d done what you wanted. Now back off and let us explain.”

  “You’re right, Bella,” mocked Pogue. “I apologize for talking to your precious convict like that.” Without warning, he slammed the barrel of his gun between Caine’s shoulder blades. “He understands violence better.”

  “No!” She leapt forward, only to be snapped back as Mitchell, Pogue’s second-in-command, wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her off the ground.

  But if they thought that was all it would take, they were mistaken. Using Caine’s training, she curled into a squat, dragging the bastard off balance, and smashed her boot down on his foot. His arms fell away on a howl.

  “I said get away from him.” She ran at Pogue. The time for appeasement had come to an end. But, just as she reached him, she was knocked off-course, lifted sideways by an enraged Mitchell and another soldier.

  She heard Caine’s roar. Heard the shout of other soldiers and the crunch of bone as Caine fought to get to her, but it was no use. They had guns. His arms were restrained behind his back. And her training wasn’t enough against a greater number of skilled soldiers. Even fighting like a madwoman, channeling Caine’s techniques, lips pulled back in a sneer, she was soon contained.

  Her breath came in furious pants as Mitchell wrapped her in a bear hug and the other soldier grasped her legs, holding her off the ground, restrained between them. She could do little more than wriggle. And blink as the slow drip of blood from a new cut seeped into her eye. Or maybe the blood was from Mitchell? She’d definitely gotten in a few good strikes.

  But it hadn’t been enough.

  Her heart shriveled as she took in Caine. Unlike her, he’d been winning. There were a few new bruises on his face and chest, but he stood tall and free around a ring of writhing, fallen soldiers. Pogue, unfortunately, wasn’t one of them.

  “Don’t hurt her.” Caine had stopped fighting.

  “Go, Caine. Run,” she screamed.

  But the stubborn man remained where he was. “I won’t fight back. Just don’t hurt her.”

  “Worry for yourself.” Eyes glittering with fury, Pogue drove his gun barrel into Caine, driving him to his knees.

  “Stop it!” She bucked against Mitchell’s hold, wanting to tear apart every soldier there with her bare hands.

  “Maybe you should have thought of that before you fought back?” Pogue drew his boot back and kicked Caine in the stomach, the kick so hard it sent Caine sliding back several lengths.

  The other soldiers stumbled to their feet, uncertain, their expressions ranging from discomfort to glee.

  “Winthrop, order him to stop.” She searched for the Councilman she’d once admired in the light of the glow sticks and found him standing frozen, a look of horror on his face. “Caine was helping me look for Ava. He’s only ever tried to help.” This was her fault. She’d brought Caine into contact with these monsters. “You’re beating an innocent man.”

  Winthrop shifted his weight from one boot to the next, his expression uncertain. Afraid. As if without protocol, without the trappings of Command Council, he was lost. “Pogue, perhaps you should—”

  “He’s a dangerous criminal,” snarled Pogue, cutting off Winthrop and kicking Caine again, his beautiful body jerking forward with the force of the hit. “He’s brainwashed Cadet West.” Another kick. “He’s a danger to us and the Council.” Pogue bent over, sweat from his temple splashing onto Caine’s still body. “Tell us what you did with Pratt and Davies, Dragath25 scum, or you won’t like what happens next.”

  She couldn’t see Caine’s face. Didn’t know if he was even still conscious. He hadn’t made a sound from the start of the beating. He wasn’t talking now, either.

  “He didn’t do anything,” she yelled. “He’s trying to find them. Plus, he’s found a way to save the rescue crew. He’s a hero, and you bastards are going to be tried for attacking him.”

  Pogue just laughed. “Wow. He fucked the smarts right out of you. You think it’s any coincidence he shows up right around the time Pratt and Davies disappeared? Check around and we’ll probably find he’s made their skin into some nice new Dragath25 accessory.”

  “That’s sickening. Caine would never do that.”

  “Oh yeah? We found evidence of his base camp near ours. Fucker’s been stalking us for a while.”

  “He wasn’t stalking anyone. He was watching out for me. Protecting me.”

  “Riiight.” Pogue’s voice was heavy with sarcasm. “Because you actually matter to him beyond a nice tight hole he can stick into when he has the urge.” His fellow soldiers laughed again.

  She slammed her head back against the chuckling bastard holding her arms behind her back. Stopped his laughter quite nicely. On the negative side, though, it sent a vicious pain winding down her skull and neck. She had to blink slowly to stop the ringing.

  “The bitch broke my nose,” her captor howled.

  “Don’t like it? Let me go.” She thrashed in earnest, her ribs close to snapping under the punishing grip of her captor’s hold. The soldier grasping her legs had gone pale.

  “Bella, calm down.” Caine’s low command sent relief spiraling through her. He was alive. And conscious.

  He pushed to his knees, turning to face her. “I’ve taken a lot worse, believe me. Don’t give them a reason to hurt you.”

  She let out a sob. Blood ran down the side of his face. His beautiful, strong jaw was already beginning to swell.

  So far she was doing a crappy job of protecting him.

  “I’m sorry,” she told him. “I should never have asked for your help. I should never have offered you that deal. You were doing just fine on your own. I…I’ve made everything so much worse.”

  His expression grew hard. “Finding you was the best thing that happened to me. Don’t forget it.” His gaze shifted to Pogue. “Anyone who harms a hair on her head will be dead by tomorrow.”

  Even on his knees, he was so sure and proud. So full of command and dignity. Her chest grew tight. He truly was an amazing man.

  “You really think you’re some kind of hero, don’t you?” Pogue’s laugh chilled Bella’s blood. “You’re nothing but a scumbag convict. No one cares if one more Dragath25 prisoner dies.” He shoved the gun against Caine’s back and pressed the lever.

  Hundreds of volts of vicious electricity poured through Caine’s body, all the more visible against the backdrop of the dark night. He dropped to the ground, his eyes sinking shut, his body shuddering under the assault.

  “No!” She fought with everything she had.

  Pogue lifted the stun gun off Caine and pointed it in her direction. “You need to calm down or you’ll be deemed as a threat to our survival and treated just like your enemy lover.”

  “Fuck you!” She kept fightin
g.

  “That’s enough.” Winthrop had made his way to the front now.

  “Stay out of this, Winthrop,” growled Pogue “We may need to keep you alive, but you’re not in charge any more. This situation now falls under the realm of a threat to our survival. My territory.”

  Winthrop’s hand flew to his neck as if to check that the Command Council brand was still there. His mouth opened, but no words came out.

  “The bitch deserves what she gets.” Mitchell filled the silence, aping his leader’s example while still holding her in a painful grip. “If you lay with animals, you get treated like one.”

  Only Ransom and Winthrop didn’t nod in agreement.

  “Always said I wanted to see this particular one tied up and restrained.” Pogue’s smile was terrifying.

  She forced herself not to rise to their bait. “This is still a Council mission.” Her gaze locked on Caine, taking heart from the steady rise and fall of his chest. “Winthrop, you are the highest ranking officer here. You can decide what happens next.” Reaching him was her only hope. “Not because you’re Council, but because you’re a good man who knows what’s right. Just because we’re on Dragath25 doesn’t mean we do away with order and justice.”

  “I’m in charge now,” roared Pogue. “Not him. Not the Council. Me!”

  “Winthrop,” she pleaded, “don’t let this happen. It’s not right. You came here to save humanity. You risked your life for what you thought was right. Don’t tarnish that now. Don’t let us become nothing more than beasts.”

  Winthrop took a defiant step toward Pogue. Then Winthrop’s gaze landed on the hard stares of the other soldiers, and he took an instinctual shuffle step back, curling into himself, adrift without the mantle of Council entitlement. He held out his hands, palms up in a placating gesture that had bile rising in the back of Bella’s throat. “I don’t…this—this is silly.” His gaze met neither hers nor Pogue’s. “We all need to just take a deep breath and think things through. Bella can come with me while you question the prisoner. We’re all just trying to do the right thing here.”

  Disappointment slammed through her. Winthrop was burying his head in the sand again. “I’m not leaving Caine.”

  “For once, she’s right.” Pogue stalked toward Caine’s pack “You’re not leaving here with her,” he told Winthrop, “and I don’t need more time.” He ripped open the pack and rummaged around inside.

  Dread twisted Bella’s stomach.

  “Surprise, surprise.” Pogue pulled out a heap of twisted wires and wreckage. “A weapon.” He held it toward Winthrop, shaking it in his grasp, sending wires flailing. “He wants to kill us all, and she’s trying to protect him.”

  “No,” she protested. “He built that to help us. I told you before our shuttle was brought down by a prison gang. They intend to do the same thing to the rescue shuttle. Caine built that to jam their weapon and save those people. Save us.”

  “Bullshit,” snarled Pogue, but the rest of his words died as a roar sounded overheard. Way up high and off to the left, a tiny metallic disc flashed in the otherwise black sky.

  “Holy shit. It’s the rescue shuttle.” Pogue dropped Caine’s jammer into the dirt. “We’re saved.”

  Bella’s heart leapt—and then took a shuddering dive. Her gaze shot to the jumble of wires by Pogue’s boots. “We need to use Caine’s machine. Otherwise, those people are going to die.”

  Unfortunately, no one was listening. Everyone was too busy shouting and pointing toward the growing flickering lights overhead.

  Seizing her chance, she kicked out, sending the distracted soldier holding her legs stumbling back. Knocked off kilter, Mitchell released her with a curse.

  She landed hard on her ass. Scrambling forward, she dodged her captor’s grasp and crawled to Caine, rolling him over. Her chest loosened as she took in the rise and fall of his chest.

  “Caine?” She fumbled frantically for the catch that would release his restraints, “Can you hear me, baby? We need to—”

  A rough arm lifted her up and away before she could complete her task.

  “I don’t think so.” Pogue’s hot breath rasped against her ear. “Time to say goodbye to your boyfriend, Cadet West. You want a good fucking once we’re back in space, I’ll be glad to show you what a real man can do.”

  Before she could take a swing, he hitched her higher in his arms, squeezing so hard black dots danced in front of her eyes. She dug her nails into his skin, but it had little impact. Without breath, she couldn’t even scream, much less fight.

  He pitched his voice to be heard by his men over the growing roar. “We need to get back to the clearing so the shuttle can land. Let’s get the fuck off this hellhole.”

  “No, we…need that…machine. We need…Caine.” Wheezing, flailing, she thrashed in Pogue’s hold while her gaze locked with Winthrop’s. “Otherwise, those people…are going to die…and…it will be…our fault.”

  Winthrop paled. Pogue ignored her.

  She sucked down a desperate breath. “You can’t…just leave him here.”

  As if she weighed no more than a child, Pogue threw her over his shoulder. “He’s a fucking scumbag criminal. You’ll be thanking us soon enough for saving you. He was never going to do anything but die here on this planet anyway.”

  Kicking, clawing, she fought for release, but it was no good. Against some of the other men, she might have had a chance. But not Pogue.

  “Caine!” She was still fighting. She was still screaming his name as Pogue sprinted down the hill, the other soldiers following close behind, Caine’s unmoving body all too soon disappearing from sight.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The low rumble of the shuttle’s motors shifted to a frantic whir.

  “Shit! They’re falling.” Pogue jerked to a stop in the clearing, his voice tight with disbelief. All around her, the other soldiers had stumbled to a halt, too.

  “Because their equipment is being jammed. Just like ours.” She was too horrified to feel righteous rage. Good people, who’d come to save them, were about to die. “Let me go.” She pushed against Pogue’s back. Almost in a daze, he set her on her feet, his gaze locked on the dropping ship.

  She shifted in place, torn between trying to make it back to Caine and doing what she could to help those who’d come to save her.

  A series of shrill shrieks echoed across the cliffs raising goose bumps.

  Of course. 225 and his pack were coming for their prize. Just as they’d done last time.

  “We’ve got to hide.” Pogue’s face had lost all color, his gaze scanning left and right as he gripped his gun tight.

  “And leave any crash survivors to those monsters?” She had to scream now to be heard over the roar of the plummeting shuttle. “The people on that shuttle were coming to save you. You can’t just desert them.”

  He shook her off, turning toward his men. “Let’s go.”

  To their credit, the other six soldiers stayed put. Their gazes flickering to the listing, spinning shuttle, its Council Search and Rescue stamp easy to see in the shuttle flood lights as it roared closer and closer to the ground.

  “Sir?” Ransom questioned Pogue, “maybe she’s right.”

  “Do you know what those animals will do to us if they find us?” snarled Pogue. “I’m not going out like that.”

  Her potential ally folded in on himself, Ransom’s pupils widening as fear won.

  The pounding of footsteps from the way they’d come sent the soldiers whipping around, their guns clenched tight.

  Winthrop appeared from behind a rocky ledge, his pace slow, his face flushed. “Shit. Bella was right. The shuttle’s going to crash.” He bent over as if the run had given him a stitch in his side. “I’m sorry,” he wheezed. “We should have believed you.”

  She wasn’t in a forgiving mood. She swiped at the blood dripping into her eye. “You should have believed Caine.”

  Guilt flared in Winthrop’s gaze. “You’re right.”


  Pogue grabbed Winthrop’s arm. “Save the sucking up for later. We’re out of here.”

  Another set of shrieks sounded, closer than before.

  “No.” Winthrop shook Pogue off. “Listening to you was wrong. You’re not in charge. I am.”

  Somehow, faced with the consequences of his cowardice, Winthrop had found his backbone. Only it was too late.

  The shuttle was coming in fast now, only a few hundred yards up and off to the left, its nose pointed downward, close enough to the ground to see the underside of the shuttle even as it spun, its engines sputtering and sparking as whatever was jamming it kept everything from working properly. So close, the roar of its descent was as loud as a scream of agony in her ear.

  It was horrific to realize she knew exactly what those poor people inside the shuttle were feeling. How terror was gripping their chests as all the regrets, all the people they loved, all the things they’d never get to do played through their minds. She swayed on her feet, memories of her own crash blurring with her guilt and pain over what she was seeing now.

  Then, suddenly, she blinked, her eyes disbelieving.

  It…it almost seemed as if the engines were streaming to life. As if the sparking embers had become one long continual flame.

  “He did it.” Winthrop’s voice was heavy with awe. Beside him, Pogue had gone still.

  In shock, her stare returned to the shuttle. It was still coming in far too fast, but it had stabilized somewhat, its nose no longer pointed downward.

  Caine had done it.

  “How?” she whispered.

  “I heard what you had to say.” Winthrop grabbed her hand. “I doubled back to release him. Not because I’m Council and my order should be followed, but because it was the right thing to do. I wanted him to come with me, but he insisted on trying to get the equipment to work.”

  “Is he okay?” Her throat was so tight it was hard to get the words out.

  “He’s fine. A real hero.”

  “Tell that to the Council,” she said. “Please.”